


Hell is Paved by your Best Friend fucking you over

by XSuicuneX



Series: The Hunted [2]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Arrow wounds are no joke :(, Father Figure Wilbur Soot, Gen, He's got two lives it's fine, I'm sleep deprived I can not recall the proper tag for that, I'm so glad I can use that tag, My take on Wilbur's getting shot lol, Older Sibling Wilbur Soot, Poor Tommy his experiences on the SMP were just awful, Protective Wilbur Soot, Wilbur got shot there's a lot of blood, for now it's fine, pogtopia arc, temp character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 02:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29181630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XSuicuneX/pseuds/XSuicuneX
Summary: They just got Exiled, and Wilbur has the worst luck.Tommy's not having a fun time.
Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: The Hunted [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2142399
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	Hell is Paved by your Best Friend fucking you over

**Author's Note:**

> tw: lots of blood Wilbur got shot (through the heart! And Schlatt's to blame~) This is tied into my Pandora's Box fic, just a lil oneshot I decided to make. Woot, woot.

Tommy stumbled with relief into the cave, his blood soaked hands nearly dropping the torches they held onto his feet as he planted them along the walls. Luckily it was deeper than they’d first thought.

Wilbur groaned, his full weight suddenly pressing on the teenager’s shoulder, but Tommy grit his teeth and took those extra few steps inside so they were concealed by the stone and vines. “Hang in there Wilbur.” He rasped, carefully laying his brother down onto the rocks and wishing he had more comfortable bedding. He dug into his pockets, looking for something, anything to bind the giant bleeding hole in his brother’s side.

“Tommy…” Came Wilbur’s strained voice, his eyes looked disturbingly glossy, a hand weakly reaching out, absolutely covered in blood. “Tommy, what are the coords?”

“Coords?” Tommy asked, voice shaking with fear, his pockets were empty. “What the fuck do you need _coords_ for?!”

Wilbur grimaced, before letting out a breath, his chest heaving with what looked like a lot of pain. “I-I’m not going to last.”

“Wha-? No!” Tommy grabbed Wilbur’s hand and gripped it tightly in his own, his vision blurring. “No, no, no, you’ve got to hang on! Just hang on Wil I’ll-I’ll fix this!”

Wilbur’s hand weakly squeezed his, before slipping out to cup his cheek instead. A weak smile grew on his lips. “T-too late for that Toms.” He managed, laughing weakly. “Please.”

Blinking away tears Tommy quickly brought up his communicator screen, before shakily rattling off the numbers of their location. Wilbur repeated them softly, his eyes closing as all his focus poured into remembering.

Tommy’s breath hitched, and he covered his brother’s hand with his own. “You’ve only got two lives left.”

Another laugh, looking especially painful. “Just one after this.” His eyes opened again, thumb stroking Tommy’s cheek. “I’ll find you.”

Tommy lost his internal battle, tears dripping down his cheeks as he curled over the man that raised him. “Wilbur, _please_!” He whined, sounding like the child Wilbur always accused him of being.

“Shhhh…” Wilbur hushed, voice soft, thumb still stroking his face, wiping the tears from his cheeks until slowly, slowly, he grew cold.

Tommy’d seen his brother die before, saw it happen plenty of times in worlds less cruel. But never had he had to watch him die in his arms, never slow, never painful, his last life had been lost quickly, just a stab and it was over, it didn’t… _drain_.

Tommy wasn’t sure if Wilbur’s corpse vanishing from his arms was a blessing or a curse, it just made him feel ten times more alone. He curled up, sobbing, hands gripping his hair as he tried to keep his tears as quiet as he could.

They were still being hunted.

When Wilbur respawned back in L’manburg he hissed out a curse to his unfortunate luck and dashed for the walls, trusting to the darkness of the night to keep him hidden from the citizens-turned traitor. He muttered numbers under his breath, keeping an eye out for trackers or mobs in equal measure.

He cursed his luck a second time when he found his blood trail, spent several nerve wracking moments using his hands to claw dirt over the telltale signs, thanking all those years with Philza and Technoblade in teaching him how to hide a trail, and how to do it efficiently no matter how unpleasant the mud felt between his fingers.

Eventually he was back in the cave, after much backtracking and praying that he wouldn’t become mob food or found by another player. He slumped, exhausted past the stones, mind coming up with a million preparations to hide their shelter better, a million questions of how they got to this moment, a million paths to head down next.

A sob stopped his thoughts in their tracks, his chest aching as one word burned in his brain. _Tommy_.

He found his little brother curled up on the floor, having not moved, still covered in his blood. “ _Oh, Tommy_.” He sighed, before kneeling down in front of him, arms wrapping around the teenager and holding him tight.

“Shhh, shhhh.” He hushed him, rocking him in his arms as the boy sobbed, clinging to his uniform and making it a ruined mess again. “It’s okay Toms. I’m here. I’m here. I found you, just like I promised.”

“W-Wilbur…” Tommy choked out, and it was heartbreaking seeing the normally spirited teenager reduced to such a whimpering mess. “W-why? Why did Schlatt…?”

He swallowed down a lump, a dark pit opening up in his chest at the thought of the satyr. He’d _trusted_ him, told him _everything_ , what the _fuck_? “I don’t know.” He managed, a hand lifting to tangle in his brother’s hair. If Schlatt really had hated him for all those years then why the _fuck_ did he have to punish _Tommy_? Schlatt _helped_ him raise Tommy, just as he’d helped Schlatt raise Tubbo. Tommy was just as much _his_ kid as he was Wilbur’s.

A few moments more, Tommy’s sobs started to fade as the teenager regained control over himself. “What are we going to do now?” He asked slow, hesitant, looking up to Wilbur like he always had, following him until the end.

For once, Wilbur wasn’t sure, no quick witted plan or clever map laid out before him as it had so often before. All that filled his mind was Schlatt, Schlatt, _Schlatt_ , and the ever present question. But he took in a deep breath, forced his brain to still a moment. “We’re taking it back Tommy.” He said, his heart only half in the idea, but he clung to it for no others. “We’re going to take L’manburg back.”

 _Why_? _Why? **Why**? _


End file.
